


Stretch Out

by BlackHunter666



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Peace, Relaxation, Settling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3304247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackHunter666/pseuds/BlackHunter666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We've all seen stories about the clones when they're fighting. We've all heard tales of bravery, courage and valour in the face of overwhelming odds. We've read countless stories about dying clones, maimed clones and clones fighting in a war they don't truly understand.</p><p>So now let's all slow down and enjoy a fic focusing completely on the relaxation of clones, see them when they're off duty or just puttering around doing light duties. Let's really see what's going on behind the scenes so to speak.</p><p>Of course, if any of you have someone special you want to see in this story, just let me know and I'll be happy to include them. I'm hoping to write as many of these little snippets as I can so feel free to give me characters you really want to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 501st

#^#~READY~#^#

Setting his helmet on his desk and toeing off his boots, Rex settled at his desk and looked at the paperwork scattered across it. Setting one pistol on the desk and making sure the other was secure, he sunk down in his chair and scanned his workload again with a sigh. It was nice to finally be off the battlefield and clean again but now he had to contend with the after action reports, medical reports, requisitions and dozens of other reports and forms.

At least his yeoman was well trained and knew exactly how to stack the reports so Rex could handle them in the order that best suited his style. He'd been lucky to get Shadow; the Kaminoans had been ready to terminate him until Rex claimed him as his yeoman and stood up to the long necks to protect him. Rex didn't care that Shadow was colour blind, he didn't care that Shadow was unfit for active duty, he was just glad to finally have someone who could work with his style and make life just that little easier for him.

Grabbing the first requisition form from the first pile on his desk, Rex turned his chair and kicked back, tipping his chair back to lean against the wall and planting his right leg on the corner of his desk. Shuffling down in his chair a little more, he sighed contentedly and let his left leg flop out into the most comfortable position it could while he was still armoured up. It wasn't the absolutely most comfortable position for him but it was the best that could be done while still in most of his armour.

Right elbow on the desk and left arm dangling limply beside him, Rex found his inner peace and focused on the requisitions in front of him, questioning a few of the requested restocks and denying the outright insanity that sometimes turned up on these forms. That was the main reason why Hardcase wasn't allowed to fill in his own requisition forms anymore, he'd tried once too many to get something strange past Rex and now paid the price.

#^#~EXHAUSTION~#^#

Totally exhausted after a long day on the battlefield and an equally long night in the infirmary tending to his brothers, Kix didn't even both heading back to his quarters when he came off shift at last. Yawning wide, he headed through to the small room kept aside for the medics to use when they needed to be close to patients and stripped off his bodysuit, trying not to think about all the bodily fluids that had soaked into it.

Tossing the dirty suit in the general direction of the washing chute and knowing full well that one of his brothers would bring him a clean one when they came to check on him, he sat down on the nearest cot and reached out one heavy hand to type his code into the pad over the cot. The pad was connected to a sign beside the door so his brothers would know exactly where he was. Kix could only hope that he wouldn't be needed tonight. He really did need several solid hours of undisturbed sleep.

Duties done, he flopped over onto his left side and sprawled out, groaning faintly at the welcoming embrace of the soft mattress. Right leg hanging off the side, left half tucked up so his knee hung over the edge, Kix tucked his right hand under his chin and gripped the pillow with his left hand; a habit he'd picked up after Hardcase kept stealing his pillow and beating him over the head to wake him up on his rare off-days.

Squirming a little to find his most comfortable position, Kix sighed and let his eyes drift closed, releasing his burdens and embracing his chance to rest. Within seconds he was snoring peacefully into his pillow, so deep in his slumber that he didn't even twitch when Coric snuck into the room and draped a blanket over him.

#^#~PEACE~#^#

Grateful for a few rare hours of downtime between training and missions, Tup changed into his fatigues and released the clip restraining his bun. Tucking the clip into his belt pouch just in case, Tup brushed his hair out smooth and pulled it back into a low tail with a practised flick of his wrists. He had been guaranteed at least three hours to relax, a precious gift from his Captain after several rough weeks on the frontlines. Now if he could just avoid the ship officers, his downtime would be truly great. They didn't approve of him wearing his hair down and would take any excuse to slap him with a demerit for it.

Ignoring the looks from the non-clone personnel that saw him, he headed for one of the rec rooms that had unofficially been designated as clones only. It wasn't really enforced but most of the crew stayed out of this area, giving the clones their own space to relax and talk without needing to worry about being interrupted by their shipmates. Down here, the clones could relax and take their downtime however they wished, all without fear of anyone thinking they were weird or not understanding why the brothers acted in such ways.

Entering the rec room and scanning the gathering slowly, Tup smiled at the sight of his favourite place being empty and headed straight for it, relieved that no one had taken his spot in the room. Climbing up and stretching out, Tup sighed softly as he settled on the padded shelf built into the wall. This was the main reason Tup was glad this place was only for his brothers, he doubted anyone else would understand his need to be up here.

Head pillowed on his right arm and left hand dangling off the end of the shelf, half twisted around so he could still see what was going on around him even as he hung his feet off the other end, Tup was at peace. He always felt most at home when he was up high, looking down on whatever was going on around him. His brothers understood that need and always made certain he had a good vantage point to sprawl and chill out.

#^#~STAND DOWN~#^#

Still hopeful that their mission would be given a green light, Matchstick hung back when the rest of his Squadron headed back to their ready room to relax. They were all fairly sure the mission would remain red-lit and were planning on abandoning their flight suits and waiting it out. Not Matchstick though, he was going to stay right here and be ready for the green light to come on again. He had little doubt that it would happen; experience told him that General Skywalker would always call on Shadow Squadron when something needed to be destroyed.

Leaving his helmet in the cockpit, Matchstick climbed up onto the curvaceous plating of his beautiful Y-wing bomber and settled down between the cockpit and the portside nacelle. Splaying his body out across the plating, leaning back against the cockpit and resting his feet on the nacelle, he relaxed and closed his eyes, patiently waiting for the mission to be called. Here he felt at home and had more than enough space to spread out for maximum in armour comfort.

Wriggling a little and stretching out to ease the points where his armour was digging in, Matchstick tipped his head back and rolled his shoulders, indulging in the space as he waited. He'd been told before that he looked positively indecent stretched out with his legs spread but Matchstick simply didn't care.


	2. Coruscant Guard

#^#~AVOIDANCE~#^#

Refusing to admit, even in his own head, he was hiding from his duties, Fox was glad he was on a soft uniform rotation as he pulled his desk chair back and arranged several stacks of datapads under his desk. Grabbing the small pillow he used for a little extra back support, he set it on the small mark he'd left on the floor and kicked off his boots. Collecting his canteen and a ration pack, he tucked both items under the desk and made sure he had all his important work documents close to hand.

Crawling under his desk and repositioning his chair, Fox put his feet up on his chair and repositioned the pillow under his head as he settled in for some uninterrupted time with his ever increasing piles of reports. Lately it felt like everyone wanted to speak with him in private so he was forced to get creative to get enough time to read through the constant flow of patrol reports and requisitions that came across his desk.

Freezing when he heard his office door slide open, Fox scarcely dared to move as his mysterious visitor entered the room and called for him. He relaxed a little when he realised it was Thorn but he still didn't move, having long since learned that whenever Thorn, Stone or Ponds entered his office, the news was only going to ruin his day. If it was anything serious, his comm would start going off when he couldn't be located.

Sinking back down when the door hissed shut again, Fox shuffled on the floor and sighed softly, going back to his reading and signing off on yet another report. It really was nice to be out of sight just for a little while; he was getting more done now than he had all morning. If things kept up like this, Fox had a good feeling that he might just clear his desk before the evening meal but that all depended on the Senators.

#^#~GRIEF~#^#

Staring at the looping hologram Fox had handed him, Stone couldn't help the tears that welled up. Such a brave soldier and a great leader deserved better than to be dumped like so much galactic waste. At the very least he should have gone out with a pistol in his hands and a pile of dead klankers around him. Not like this, not executed like a common criminal and tossed out the airlock. It just wasn't right.

Looking across the shared room, Stone's gaze fell on the perfectly made bunk against the far well, the regulation blanket pulled tight and the sheet folded exactly a hand width over the top. Even the pillow was pristine, not a wrinkle in the cover and placed a hand-and-a-half from the edge of the bunk. It was all so very Ponds, everything carefully measured and arranged to regulations. Even his locker was exact, his formal fatigues hanging neatly over his gleaming boots with his belt rolled and tucked safely on the shelf.

Getting to his feet, Stone padded barefoot across the room and perched on the edge of Ponds' bunk, still gazing at the razor sharp folds of sheet and blanket. Tossing the recording at the wall as hard as he could, Stone slumped onto the crisply made bunk and wept openly, fingers digging into the precision folded blankets. He'd always been taught that crying solved nothing but it felt good to openly mourn for a brother taken far too soon.

Twisting to sprawl over the tensioned bedding, he clung to the bed as if he could pull Ponds back to the living world through strength alone. Burrowing his face in the pillow and mentally apologising to Ponds for messing up his bunk, Stone wriggled into a more comfortable position and tried to relax but he could already feel the gaping hold where Ponds had been. They had been so close ever since they were just kids.

#^#~EMBARASSMENT~#^#

Walking one of his regular patrols on the Senate forecourt, Thorn was actually enjoying his conversation with the newest Coruscant Guard Commander - Thire. Having climbed up at the ranks slowly, he was finally up with the big boys and taking his fair share of the burden that came with running the Guard. But with his promotion, they could finally break down to six hour shifts and get a little bit of precious downtime each day.

Today was a nice day to be outside, the sun was shining and the people were generally happy and smiling, acknowledging the pair as they continued their circuit of the forecourt calmly. For once, the locals were being friendly, a few of the women even asked how the two clones were fairing on such a lovely day. Baffled by the pleasantries, the two men replied that they were doing very good and asked the same of the women. Giggling, the women replied along the same lines and walked away, leaving the two men still confused but also happy.

Growling low in his throat when he noticed an odd shudder in his HUD display, Thorn tapped at the side of his helmet in an attempt to fix it and called up the diagnostics to search out the problem. Another step and his HUD went completely black, even his tracker markings disappeared from the screen. Thinking fast, Thorn kept walking, recalling a bench that should have been just a few paces in front of him.  
'Thorn! Look…'

Whatever Thire had been trying to say dissolved into the heavy metallic clang that rattled Thorn's head. Stumbling back and dropping to the shining forecourt, he snarled in frustration as his HUD flared back to life and his ears cleared enough for him to hear Thire laughing his head off through their private channel. Sitting up slowly, Thorn looked up at the ornate light pole in front of him and groaned, fully aware that he would never live this down. Grumbling softly, he rolled over and got back to his feet, completely ignoring Thire as he headed back towards their barracks to check his helmet for problems.

#^#~PLAYTIME~#^#

Not really caring if anyone thought he was an idiot for his behaviour, Hound clapping his hands and bounced lightly on his toes, bent double as he watched Grizzer bounding towards him. Laughing freely, he spun out of the way and called Grizzer back to him, jumping clear again at the last moment. Twisting clear of a third pass, Hound shifted his feet and crouched, opening his arms to his best mate and duty partner. Letting out a happy little growl, Grizzer turned and ran straight into Hound's arms, knocking him flat on his back and standing over him.

Coming around to straddle Hound, Grizzer huffed out a happy sound and dropped onto him, forcing the air our of Hound's lungs even through his armour. Panting for breath, Hound heaved ineffectively against Grizzer's weight and flopped back against the decking in defeat. Getting a new idea, he grabbed Grizzer's front legs and pushed off, skidding out from under him with a powerful roll of hi shoulders.

Turning back to Grizzer, Hound stretched out beside him contentedly, leaning back against his armoured flank and gazing up at the ceiling overhead. Growling softly behind him, Grizzer dropped to the floor and rested his head on his front paws, a contented little rumble coming up from his chest as he relaxed. Rubbing idle patterns over Grizzer's flank, Hound yawned and snuggled down against his best friend and let his eyes close.

Not really tired but knowing better than to ignore a chance to rest, Hound was content to while away the hours until they were next called to duty. No one fully understood the bond between Hound and Grizzer; the other massiff handlers didn't dare use their partners as pillows and certainly didn't trust them to guard them when they slept. Not Hound though, he had full trust in Grizzer and knew his mate would wake him if there was trouble.


End file.
